Page 44 of Daddy Knows Best

"Use of vibrator for arousal and orgasm control. Optional use of glass anal plug, size small." Heat flooded my face, but I pushed through. "Goal is pleasure through consensual power exchange. Not correction. Not behavior modification. Just—" I looked up to find him watching with such intensity my words faltered. "Just us."

"Just us," he confirmed. "Safewords?"

"Bee for green, all good, more please." The words came easier now, familiar from three weeks of negotiation. "Lavender for slow down, need adjustment. Sunshine for full stop, scene ends immediately."

"And your new addition?"

My thighs pressed together at the memory of that particular negotiation. "Daddy, more—specific request for escalation. Because sometimes I want—" I swallowed hard. "Want things harder. Faster. More intense. But might not have words in the moment."

"Good girl." He took the paper, scanning my additions. "Limits?"

"No marks visible in work clothes. No insertable toys beyond what's agreed. No recording or photos during scene." I watched him nod at each point. "And—and you have to tell me if something feels wrong for you too. Promise?"

"I promise." He set the consent sheet aside, reaching for his duffel. "Speaking of agreements—time to show you the options."

The velvet pouch emerged like something from a jewelry store, midnight blue with silver drawstrings. His hands worked the closure with the same precision I'd watched for months—careful, intentional, impossible to look away from.

"As discussed." The heart-shaped vibrator appeared first, rose-gold and smaller than I'd expected. "Rechargeable, waterproof, quiet enough for apartments with thin walls."

"You researched vibrators for acoustic properties?"

"I research everything for you." No shame in the admission. "This has twelve settings. We'll start with three."

He set it on the tissue paper next to the cane, then drew out the plug. Clear glass caught the amber light, turning it into captured sunset. Smaller than my thumb, tapered to a safe base decorated with a single rose etched in the glass.

"Optional," he emphasized. "Your choice, in the moment. We've prepared, we've discussed, but you still decide."

"I know." I touched the glass carefully, finding it room temperature and perfectly smooth. "It's beautiful. Less medical than I expected."

"Nothing medical about tonight." He returned both items to the pouch. "This is personal. Private. Ours."

The words hung between us as he produced a pen from his pocket. He signed the consent sheet with quick strokes, then dated it, making everything real.

"There." He capped the pen with finality. "Officially documented. Officially us."

I stared at our names together on the paper, evidence of choices made. Three weeks ago, those signatures would have been on termination paperwork. Now they promised something entirely different.

"Hey." His finger tipped my chin up. "Where'd you go?"

"Just thinking. About how we got here. How you saved me from myself and lost your job and—"

"Gained everything," he interrupted. "Emily. I need you to hear this before we start." His hand cupped my cheek, thumb brushing the corner of my mouth. "I didn't save you. You saved yourself. I just held the flashlight while you did the work."

Tears pricked my eyes. "Nate—"

"No tears yet. Save those for later, when they're the good kind." He kissed me softly, just a brush of lips. "Now. Three deep breaths, then blindfold on. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, Daddy."

He shifted back, giving me space while staying close enough to monitor. I closed my eyes, finding the rhythm he'd taught me. In for four, hold, out for six. The first breath shook. The second steadied. The third felt like diving into deep water—committed, irreversible.

When I opened my eyes, he held the blindfold between us like an offering.

"Ready, little bee?"

"Ready."

Silk settled over my eyes like a kiss, soft and absolute. The world disappeared in stages—first the amber light, then the shapes of furniture, finally even the suggestion of brightness. Nate's fingers worked at the back of my head, tying the blindfold with careful knots that wouldn't catch my hair.

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